


Aisle Three

by plinys



Series: ABC Fic Challenge [13]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:37:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4088953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Less than twenty-four hours prior he had been in Spain fighting for his life against a group of eco-terrorists, and now here he is standing in the middle of a grocery store listening to the person who matters most to him in the world debate over the merits of soy versus almond milk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aisle Three

**Author's Note:**

> for my abc fic challenge, this week's word is "milk"

There is an interesting sort of duality to Harry’s life that he seldom takes the time to appreciate.

After all, less than twenty-four hours prior he had been in Spain fighting for his life against a group of eco-terrorists, and now here he is standing in the middle of a grocery store listening to the person who matters most to him in the world debate over the merits of soy versus almond milk.

“Daisy’s lactose intolerant,” Eggsy explains, for Harry’s sake. “Mum normally just doesn’t use milk, but we might need it, yeah?”

“I can cook whatever you want,” Harry offers. “I know plenty of recipes that don’t require milk.”

“Yeah, I know, but I just want to be safe.”

Going to the store together was a step for them, he knew that much, and from the way that Eggsy kept anxiously glancing at him out of the corner of his eye whenever the baby made a noise, Eggsy clearly realized the same thing.

They had a long standing engagement where, if by chance one was at headquarters when the other returned from a mission, they would go out for a nice dinner, somewhere without prices on the menu, then Harry would take Eggsy home and they would channel all of their pent up tension from work into a night of particularly vicious sex. Then the next day they would act like nothing had changed.

It was a good system, one that Harry very much appreciated. In their line of work, real relationships just didn’t make sense.

And yet, when Eggsy had apologized and explained that he had to watch his sister for the evening because his mum was working the nightshift, Harry hadn’t turned him away.

No, instead he’d offered his home for the night of babysitting, even volunteered to cook if Eggsy didn’t mind a quick stop off at the grocery.

Which is why Harry is standing in the middle of Waitrose with Eggsy and a baby, doing his best to pretend this whole situation isn’t terribly awkward.

“What do you think?” Eggsy asks, drawing Harry out of his thoughts and back to the present.

“Yes,” he says quickly.

That clearly does not appear to be the answer that Eggsy is looking for, if the cute little furrow between his brows is to serve as any sort of indicator.

Thankfully the baby makes a soft whining noise and distracts Eggsy from commenting on Harry’s lack of attentiveness.

His eyes dart around the shop quickly, looking for an exit from the fussy child, because as much as he is fond of Eggsy (and feels a weird sort of fondness watching Eggsy interact with his sister), that doesn’t mean that he wants to spend prolonged time with a crying baby. It isn’t a distaste for children, but rather a confusion over what to do with them.

The last time he had interacted with anybody below the age of ten had been on a mission that had gone terribly wrong, and suddenly involved Harry doing his best to convince a small child to come away from potential explosives, while Merlin had been forced to talk him through the whole affair. The video of Harry’s failings had been played back for the entire round table later, much to everyone else’s enjoyment.

“If it would help, I could go ask somebody who works here which would be better,” Harry offers.

And when Eggsy nods his head vaguely, Harry quickly takes his leave.

Perhaps a bit too quickly.

A grocer is easy enough to find, and he stops her from stacking some boxes, gesturing awkwardly to where Eggsy is standing in the aisle cooing over Daisy.

“Excuse me, madam, but I was wondering if you knew the differences between almond and soy milk? The baby is lactose intolerant and we weren’t sure which would be the best alternative drink for her.”

The woman takes no time at all explaining all the minute differences to him, fat content and calories and vegan options, and it’s all a bit much, but Harry nods his head, filing the information away so that he can break it all down for Eggsy.

His ability to process information comes to a screeching halt when at the end of the grocer’s explanation, she offers him a warm smile and says, “You’ve got a lovely family.”

He wants to correct her, to say that the baby isn’t his (and neither is Eggsy, technically) but the words die on his lips as he follows her gaze to the two of them in the grocery aisle. Eggsy’s reading the back of a milk carton, and it hits him suddenly that he could get used to this.

The air from his lungs leaves him in a moment, and all he can really manage to say is, “Oh.”

Realizing that he’s in love feels not unlike a punch to the gut.

“What was that?”

Harry tears his eyes away from the scene before him to give the shopkeeper a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

He’s not sure how he missed this before. How he thought that something casual, nothing more than stress relief, could be good enough, because it isn’t.

He needs so much more than that.

“Get the almond milk,” Harry says, reaching over Eggsy’s shoulder to grab the carton from his hand and put it in the cart, taking the decision away from him because there are much more important things to deal with.

The movement causes Eggsy to turn slightly, a question in his eyes, but before he can say whatever is on his mind, Harry brings their lips together. It’s not like they’ve never kissed before, but this kiss is different: just the softest brush of lips, barely even there.

When he pulls back, the question is gone, replaced by a happy look that spreads across Eggsy’s features. Harry’s half-certain that he’s never seen this look before. He’s seen what Eggsy looks like in the middle of a firefight, crashing down post-orgasm, and bored out of his mind in their meetings. However, this expression is more exquisite than any of those, so much so that Harry wishes his glasses were recording purely so he could experience this again and again.

“Harry?”

“There’s less starch in almond milk,” he says, “and I think I might be in love with you.”

“I - oh,” Eggsy says, and Harry can’t read his tone properly. That becomes irrelevant when Eggsy tugs him down for another kiss.

Still soft and sweet, but with more pressure this time.

The kiss ends too soon, though he can’t find it in him to care when Eggsy grins back up at him and replies as easy as breathing, “Yeah, well, I love you too.”

 


End file.
